


is this yelling what love's all about?

by avosettas



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Amnesia, Gen, Implied/Referenced Torture, Post-Episode: 2015 Xmas The Husbands of River Song, Pre-Episode: s10e01 The Pilot, Prosopagnosia, The Vault (Doctor Who)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:42:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25543060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avosettas/pseuds/avosettas
Summary: “The first question is 'how much water is there in all the lakes and rivers of Earth?' And the shepherd’s boy says that if the king can dam up everything, so that not even a drop can get through, he’ll count it all.”“That’s a bit daft,” Missy interrupts.“It’s a fairytale,” the Doctor retorts.(Or: Missy wonders, whatever happened to Clara?)
Relationships: Twelfth Doctor & Missy
Kudos: 19





	is this yelling what love's all about?

**Author's Note:**

> my answer to the question: did missy ever find out what happened to clara? 
> 
> very early vault days. first time writing missy so she might be ooc but also she's chaotic as fuck sooooooo

“Whatever happened to _Clara_?” 

They’re in the Vault, with its false windows and wide open space. She speaks the name like a joke, and the Doctor wants to punch her. 

It would be setting a bad example, though. After all, Missy _is_ imprisoned this way on the pretense that she’s learning to be good. 

He watches Missy out of the corner of his eye. Her hair is frizzed and her makeup dull, from repeated days of little sleep, but besides those small details she looks as though she could be a Victorian governess. 

... hm. Victorian governess. Clara. It feels connected, but not quite. 

Missy looks all too pleased that she’s thrown him for a loop. Recently he went through some Dr. Seuss books he found in the library - Missy’s smile makes her look like the Grinch.

“I don’t know,” he sighs, laying his plastic fork gently in his pad thai. “Long story.” 

“Well, all I have is time,” she replies coyly, raising an eyebrow. 

“If you really want to be,” he brings up his fingers for air quotes, “‘good’, Missy, you shouldn’t look so pleased when someone’s missing.” 

“And I should be listening just because I like you?” She says, a bit sarcastically. 

“...Ideally, yes.” He sighs a bit, picks up the fork again and shovels some rice into his mouth. 

“It’s a good thing I like you, then,” Missy points her own plastic fork at him, before delicately picking up her own mouthful of noodles. “So. Clara.” 

“...Clara.” 

He’s silent for a while, to the point that she begins to clean up their takeout, piling plastic containers together and tossing them into the trash in the corner while he broods. Finally, he begins: 

“There’s a trap street, in London. Maybe more than one, but this one is the important one.” 

“A trap street,” Missy says incredulously. “Like the little bits on a map that cartographers put to make sure they aren’t being copied?” 

“Missy, please.” 

“Sorry.” She doesn’t look very apologetic, but he supposes he’ll have to take it. 

He describes the trap street, with its colorful occupants and quaint environment, and Missy actually looks enthralled. Tells her about Rigsy and Anahson and Mayor Me. 

What he can remember about Clara facing the raven, but he can’t remember her face when he knew her. How could he remember her dying when all that’s there is a hole in the patchwork of the trap street? 

Missy drums her long fingernails on the table as he describes repeatedly burning himself up, again and again and again, just to break his hand repeatedly on azbantium. He tells her the whole tale of the shepherd’s boy, not just the bit he told the Veil. 

“There’s this king, in Lower Pomerania, I think. Or maybe not. But he hears about this shepherd’s boy, who answers questions like a wise man,” the Doctor explains. “And this king, he says to the shepherd’s boy that he’ll treat him as his own child if he can answer three questions.” 

“What were the questions?” Missy asks obediently, ever the engaged audience. By now, the sun is going down in the false windows of the Vault. 

“The first question is 'how much water is there in all the lakes and rivers of Earth?' And the shepherd’s boy says that if the king can dam up everything, so that not even a drop can get through, he’ll count it all.” 

“That’s a bit daft,” Missy interrupts. 

“It’s a fairytale,” the Doctor retorts. “Second questions is similar, it’s about how many stars there are in the sky. The boy asks for a big piece of a paper and a pen, and he makes so many holes in this paper that you can’t tell one from the other. Then he tells the king that they can count all the holes on the paper, and that’s how many stars there are in the sky.” 

“There’s no way anyone could make that many holes!” Missy interrupts again, this time indignant. 

“Again. Fairytale.” Missy rolls her eyes. “The last question was ‘how many seconds in eternity?’” 

The Doctor pauses. One of his hands aches, like it knows what comes next. He covers it with the other, squeezes it like it will make the ache go away. 

“The shepherd’s boy tells the king that there’s a mountain made of diamond and it takes two hours to go around or under or across. And every thousand years, a little bird comes and sharpens its beak on the diamond mountain. The boy says that when that bird has whittled away the entire mountain, the first second of eternity will have passed.” 

_Hell of a bird_ , he thinks bitterly, slumping back into his chair. His head feels hollow and full of cotton at the same time, and he doesn’t want to talk anymore, but he feels like he owes it to Missy, since she’s alone except for his weekly visits. 

“Hm. Odd fairytale, that,” Missy says. “Motivational in the situation, I suppose.” 

“Very,” the Doctor agrees. He takes a deep breath and keeps going. Gallifrey and the old barn and Rassilon, killing the General, hiding in the Cloisters. 

Five minutes to Hell, looking at Me’s chess game with herself. 

“I don’t remember anything about her,” he admits finally, having finished with the circumstances. He can’t avoid admitting it - to Missy, to himself. “This regeneration can’t remember faces well in the first place, I have to rely on other features. For you, I use your hair, usually, at least with this regeneration.” 

“Oh, I’m flattered you like it,” Missy preens under his attention. 

He continues though, absentmindedly. “I don’t know how I identified her. Her eyes maybe. I think it was the eyes. I don’t remember what we talked about, ever. The day I woke up with holes in my memories, I found a message on my chalk board that said ‘run, you clever boy, and be a doctor’. And I think it was her, but I don’t know...” 

“Dear, you’re rambling.” Missy interrupts, and he realizes when he looks up to meet her eyes, barely, that he’s shifted forward to lean on their little folding table with his head in his hands. “I think it’s good riddance,” she says, when she’s sure he’s looking at her. 

The Doctor stands. “I think,” he says, fighting the rage in his voice, “that I’ll be leaving you alone unless you want to apologize.” 

“What, good people don’t have enemies?” She pouts exaggeratedly. “You can’t be good then, can you?” 

“Good people do not insult the memory of a deceased person who is dear to their friend!” He yells. Missy only smiles. 

“The Doctor and Clara Oswald in the TARDIS,” she says mockingly. “Could tell you all about it. Some of it. I spent plenty of time watching you while I was hiding at 3W. Too bad it’s gone, I could bring her back,” a pause. “As a Cyberman.” 

“Leave me alone,” he growls, starting towards the door. 

“You’re the one intruding on me,” she laughs, but she steps into the containment field obediently. 

He closes the Vault door and locks it, and then he sinks to the ground. Hard and cold against him. It’s grounding, a bit. 

So is knowing Clara’s last name, now, since Missy said it. 

“The Doctor and Clara Oswald in the TARDIS,” he repeats. He lays his forehead against his knees. “The Doctor and Clara Oswald in the TARDIS…”


End file.
